


Of Monsters and Pandas

by kai_foxflight



Series: A World Beyond [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Gen, Language Barrier, Minor Character Death, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:11:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kai_foxflight/pseuds/kai_foxflight
Summary: Xiumin and Tao find out just how their paths crossed.





	Of Monsters and Pandas

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: deep into character development

It had been raining the first day they met.

Xiumin never understood the reason the PRT was called Personal Rapid Transport when it was anything but personal, and definitely not rapid. The stranger in a panda suit who joined him in the small car, at 3 in the morning, alone, was just proof of the invalidity of the first part. And when the car crawled to a start, the confirmation of the second part was given as well. And when it shuddered to a stop, halfway between the park station where they got on and the dorm station where they were to get off, dozens of feet in the air, Xiumin could tack on another case against the name—the transport part isn’t always reliable.

Tao had no intentions of speaking to the other student that had graced the PRT with him. Or, rather, he  _ couldn’t _ , so he wouldn’t. But the second the car froze, in the middle of the air on such shaky and small tracks as it had, he knew his silence was no longer an option. “Hey, do you have a phone? Mine’s dead.” Tao blinked once, twice, three times, the words spoken in a language he was just starting to understand too complex and quick for him to grasp the meaning of. “Can you hear me?”

“I… no speak… English?” Xiumin’s brow furrowed for a minute at the heavily accented words, struggling to make them out for longer than should have been necessary. “You speak… Chinese?”

Again, there was that pause of whirling brain clogs, their minds working harder than should have been allowed at 3 A.M. in the middle of their holiday break. But after a few seconds, Xiumin nodded, years of language classes throughout high school coming back. “A little.”

The second the native tongue reached Tao’s ears, even butchered with an accent and slightly improper intonation, he felt himself relaxing, slipping into a eased state that not many people on the campus—and it was a large campus too—could give him. The other rider held up his cell phone, the screen black and lifeless. “You have?” The question was incomplete, words missing, and they both knew it. But it got the point across—even if it was answered with disappointment as Tao shook his head.

And in his limited English vocabulary, Tao gave the best response he could. “Dead… no life… bye-bye.”

Xiumin snorted at the response, a small smile breaking across his face for the first time since… he couldn’t even remember the last time he had smiled. It had been around when Luhan left, but before that and he couldn’t remember when that was. “Thanks, man. That really helps a lot.”

Tao only cocked his head to the side, a childish smile dancing across his lips, and Xiumin let out a twinkle of laughter at the boy’s confusion as he sunk back into the seat, in both utter despair and complete serenity.

By the time the car started moving again, the two had fallen asleep, awakened by the early rays of sunlight peeking through the windows the next morning.

...

_ “Do you promise to be with me forever?” _

_ “I can’t understand you, ge! Speak Mandarin~” _

_ “Speak English~ Mandarin is too hard to learn!” The two stuck their tongues out at each other at the same time, as if it had been planned, eyes squeezed closed to make the funniest face that neither saw. But when they both leaned forward and bumped the other, tongues still out, it turned into a fit of giggles, then a fit of laughter, until they were wiping tears away from their eyes. Minseok’s smile held the strength of every sun in the galaxy, even the universe, shining brighter than all of them combined and mirrored by Luhan. _

_ “I asked if you’d stay.” _

_ “Always. Forever. Until we die.” _

_ “You promise?” _

_ “I promise.” _

_ “Good. I don’t want you to leave me.” _

_ “Mandarin! Say it in Mandarin so I can understand!” _

...

The second time they met, it was snowing.

Not actual snow from the sky, because it was still only beginning to get cold despite the fact that it was already December. But it was snowing, white little specks floating down from the balcony of some stupid frat party as Tao sat stiff-backed and unsure of how to react to a girl practically sprawled across his lap. “P-please… I don’t…”

“There you are baby!” He jumped at the native language that sounded so much more natural than the last time he had heard the same voice speaking it. “I looked everywhere for you!”

“Sorry…?”

Xiumin threw himself down on the step next to Tao, trying not to wince at the harsh contact of hard concrete on his bony bottom. He didn’t even think as he leaned on the taller boy, fighting back a smile when the girl shot up, wide-eyed and looking more than slightly disgusted. But he only smiled at her, switching back to a language she would understand when lies tumbled off his tongue. “So what were you doing sitting on my boyfriend like that?”

She sputtered out what could barely be called a response—it didn’t even answer his question, just recognized the possessiveness of it. Only after she scurried off did Tao turn to him, eyes crinkled together in the same face of confusion he’d worn months earlier. “Ge? What does ‘boyfriend’ mean?”

And Xiumin only snorted, shaking his head. “You don’t want to know.”

“But I do~” Tao didn’t get an answer besides silence, only a head lolling back onto his shoulder as Xiumin turned to look straight, out across the street and over the roof of the building down the hill from them, at a lit chapel much further down. “Ge?”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“They light it up every night in the winter,” Xiumin nodded in the direction of the chapel. “It’s a big attraction. Every freshman tries to get a picture of it in the snow to send home. Don’t you want to?” Tao remained silent. “I remember my freshman year, all these kids flocked there to try and take pictures, but it never snowed. And then the one time it did, it snowed so much that it was all ugly instead of beautiful and they couldn’t even light it. All my sister had wanted was a picture of the chapel, but I never got to give her one…” There was a pause when he realized the boy wouldn’t have understood more than a few words he said. “My sister wants a picture of it, with snow around.”

“Let’s go do it now then, ge. We can add the snow in ourselves.” Before Xiumin could reach, Tao scooped handfuls of the white flakes up and threw them over their huddled frames, smiling slightly as it clung to their hair and jackets and scarves. “See? Snow!”

But Xiumin’s shoulders just drooped, his head sinking down and letting the flakes slowly fall off. “There’s no point now.”

“What?”

“She… nothing.” He shook his head, forcing a smile onto his face for the younger boy. “You want a picture to send home?”

“I… would love that. Thank you.”

...

_ Tao winced as he looked in the cracked mirror, the lines it drew across his face not hiding any of the damage that painted his skin a million shades of purple and blue and black. Even just the thought of touching one of the marks was enough to make him whimper in pain, but he still did, gently prodding the skin that didn’t even look a natural color anymore. A shaking hand turned the faucet on, brown water pouring out for a second before it ran as clear as possible from rusted pipes. But that was more than good enough for the injured boy as he cupped his hands and scooped the water up, handful after handful splashing his face as if that was enough to wash away the blood and bruises and words and touches and pain that made his skin it’s canvas. _

_ Even with the dried blood gone, there was no fixing the marks that time simply had to fade. And more than an hour after he entered the abandoned public restroom, Tao walked out, fixing the collar of an old button up as he limped along through the park. Not a head turned to the boy as he stumbled and struggled to walk, no helping hands extended to lead him away from the darkness that was his life. _

_ In the land of opportunities, he was only faced with harsh realities and misfortune that followed him everywhere. _

...

The third time they met, the campus was practically empty.

It was the holiday break, a month off from classes, and Xiumin was camped out in the train station, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t the end of the world that he missed his train, and that his ticket  _ absolutely _ was in his pocket even though he had checked it 20 times to find it empty, and he had money in his wallet  _ without a doubt _ even when he knew for a fact he spent his last dime on the train ticket and his card was lost somewhere in the mail. Absolutely nothing was wrong. Absolutely. Nothing.

Tao found him with tears running down his cheeks on the same bench when darkness had already fallen. Without a word, he sank down next to the smaller boy, placed an arm around his shaking shoulders, and pulled his shivering form close, wrapping a jacket around them both to keep the heat in. “Okay ma?”

Xiumin turned his head slowly, blinking into reality as he realized the person sitting beside him was real. And then he realized it wasn’t who he thought it was, and the tears seemed to flow a little harder. But he still sniffled, bringing the sleeve of his sweater over his hand and using that to wipe his running nose before clearing his throat. “It’s ‘are you okay?’ You just mixed Mandarin and English together and butchered both.”

Tao only smiled, tilting his head slightly to the side and opening his eyes as wide as they would go. “You okay ma?”

The elder huffed, about to correct him again, when he realized something. “Are you trying to say ‘man’?”

Tao nodded, still wearing the smile that seemed too large on his face compared to the somber expression he normally wore. “You okay?”

Xiumin chuckled a little at the struggle it took for the one question, but it was a heartless chuckle, no true humor in it. “Not really. I have nowhere to go, no money to pay to get anywhere, and no family to call to bring me home.”

“Me?”

“What?”

“I have… apartment… you?” Tao’s eyes seemed to pierce into Xiumin’s soul with how intently he looked at the older boy, transfixing him in a hypnotized state so that he nodded without knowing what he agreed to. “Good! Yay! Come!”

“W-wait! Where are we going?!”

...

_ There were lights everywhere, flashing in so many colors that just made Minseok’s head hurt harder than anything else was. And the voices, yelling and screaming, strangers sobbing, officers trying to act calm even when the wreckage seemed too much for even them to handle calmly. But the voices he wanted to hear, the faces that were the only things he wanted to see—none of it came. Nothing. _

_ When the blackness came, he’d fought with all his strength, ran as fast as he could from the clawing fingers that dug into the corners of his mind and slowly crawled forward until he was running down an endless tunnel, completely entrapped in the unknown world. How long he stayed there, he didn’t know. But when he woke up, all he ever wanted to do was go back to that peaceful world, where pain and despair and hurt were not true and happiness and joy didn’t exist either. All he wanted was the emotionless, peaceful world of blackness. _

_ It could never come. _

_ Not when he found out that Luhan and his sister were never going to smile at him as they teased him, a tag team that knew how to poke his buttons perfectly. Not when his only memories of them were torn away, a cruel after effect that took them away as well. _

_ He was upset without even knowing who Luhan and Minseon were. Nothing mattered besides the fact that two people were dead, and it was all his fault. _

...

Xiumin had long since figured Tao had offered for him to stay at his apartment by the time they reached the door, the younger carrying his large suitcase against Xiumin’s protests and pitiful fighting. The first thing that hit Xiumin the second they walked in was the scent of candles, everywhere. There had to have been millions of scents, all mixing together to create the somehow-not-overbearing smell of the apartment. The second was the little cards with English words, taped onto practically everything—phone, fridge, wall, ceiling, floor, nothing was safe from the pink-index-card-onslaught. The third was the lack of practically anything else. There was the bare necessities in the kitchen; a table with a few chairs, a couch and another table pushed against one wall in what was supposed to be the living room; and a bedroom with a door cracked open to show a bed and nothing else. It was a house, but definitely not home.

And one lone picture made the fridge, taped on with enough tape to hold a small child to the freezer door—the picture they had taken together of the chapel. “I thought you sent this home?”

“I did.” Tao spread his arms out, gesturing to the rooms as a whole. “Home.”

“Your parents?”

“What parents?” He gave a disgusted scoff. “I have no parents.”

“But—”

“I made dinner. Eat.” A plate clattered onto the counter, followed seconds later by clatters from a pair of metal chopsticks, and then a final clunk of a glass. “It’s from China. When I worked there, I made this daily.”

“Did you work in a…” Xiumin’s eyes clouded over as the word escaped his memory, brain scrambling to find it, “food-making place?”

Tao snorted at the obviously-incorrect wording, taking Xiumin’s embarrassed look with more laughter. “Restaurant? For a while, yes.”

“You must be good then…”

“It was a job.”

“Like the panda?” There was a pause as Xiumin stared at Tao with curiosity and Tao at Xiumin in confusion, before the younger boy broke down into laughter as he remembered. “What?”

“Not really.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t get paid for the panda.”

“Then…?”

Tao forced Xiumin to sit at the table in the next room before he answered, sinking into the chair across from the elder before opening his mouth to speak. “Did you know there’s an orphanage about half an hour away?”

“A what?”

“Little kids without parents… they go there and find new parents.” When Xiumin nodded in understand, Tao continued. “I go there once a month in the panda suit to make them laugh. I fell asleep there and came home later than planned, and some boys had pulled a prank stealing my clothes that day.” Xiumin snorted to hide his laughter, but failed and let it come out not a second later. “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it?”

“That’s some bad luck there, man.”

“Bad luck or good luck?”

“What are you talking about?”

Tao remained silence for a few seconds, sending the two into the serious air that seemed to always be looming around them. “If that didn’t happen, I would have never met you, probably.”

“Well… yeah. That’s true. But I can’t have been all that life-changing in just 3 meetings. I’m barely life-changing if you were to know me your whole life.”

“That’s not true though.” Tao’s eyes were knives, piercing Xiumin’s soul deep as he stared at him. “You’re staying with me for a little now. That’s life-changing.”

“Listen, man, I’m sorry about—”

“And you have made me do things I would have never done before, and I’m so happy I did.” A ghost of a smile crept onto his face. “I took a picture for my family. They aren’t ever going to see it, but I did and I’m glad that I did. And I’m actually starting classes again next semester, because of you and how much you love this school.”

“You haven’t been taking classes?!”

“It’s because you liked this school so much that I realized it wasn’t that I hated this school, but that I hated my life. Finishing school can help me change my life.”

“Dude, I hate it here. Where’d you get the idea that I like this school?” When Tao sputtered to a stop, Xiumin chuckled, lifting another spoonful of rice to his lips with only a sly smile gracing them. “But please continue, and maybe I’ll learn why I should stay too.”

...

_ Gravel dug deep into his feet as they pounded on the ground, step after step after painful step taking him further and further away from the hellhole of a house that could barely be called a building behind him. Not once did Tao look back, not even as a scream pierced the air and brought tears streaming from his eyes. What was the point in looking back when he wasn’t headed that way? _

_ When the sound of shoes hitting the gravel reached his ears, he wished his body to go faster, pushing through indescribable pain to get further, clear more distance, make a bigger space. And in the shades of blackness that took over the day with the setting sun, it wasn’t that long before he could dive off the road, tumbling through bushes that scratched him as he fell and did nothing to buffer his fall like he had expected. But still, the slight pain from the shrubbery was nothing compared to the pain he would face if he was found. And that thought alone kept him silent during his fall, not a peep leaving his mouth until the feet raced past him and were gone for minutes straight. _

_ Slowly, achingly slow, Tao picked himself up from the ditch, raised up on shaking arms that barely supposed his weight, and eventually stood on twig-like legs that stumbled like a newborn deer taking its first steps. He scrambled up the slope, getting cut by the bushes once again as he reappeared on the road. In just a few seconds, his head whipped right then left then right again, long locks of mangled hair twirling around his head with the movement, and then he took off continuing down the road. _

_ By the time the moon took its place in the middle of the sky, bright and shining and full, he was nowhere to be found. _

_... _

Tao stumbled out of his bedroom to the smell of just-slightly-burnt toast and a bouncing form of a short boy who looked oddly like—he shook his head before the memories came back, slipping into the kitchen without being noticed. “Breakfast?”

Xiumin jumped at the voice behind him, taking a few seconds to realize the word was spoken in English and he didn’t actually have to think about it. “Yeah… eggs and toast.” He pointed to both, watching the younger boy soak in the new words. “I hope you don’t mind me using your food. I wanted to pay you back.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.” He reached for a plate on the counter, but Xiumin shooed him out before he could. “What?”

“Go sit! I have to finish it still.”

And Tao only gave a sleepy smile, a mumbled thanks, before disappearing. When Xiumin finally brought the plates out to the table, he was met with a sleeping boy there instead.

With no heart to wake him, it was hours later that Xiumin re-made the breakfast for his host, not complaining once that Tao didn’t remember it from the first time.

...

_ “This road’s about as straight as us, ge. Why are there so many curves?!” Minseok tried his best to not laugh, but with just a side-glance at Luhan, he was hysterical, slowing slightly to be able to laugh and drive at the same time. “It’s true!” _

_ “Minnie, your friend is weird. Why won’t he speak English?” _

_ Minseok’s smile was fighting to remain just a smile and not another laughing fit when he glanced at his sister in the mirror, snorting at the pout on her face. “I told you, he’s learning English still. He’s not very good at it.” _

_ “Well it’s stupid that he can’t speak English. Even little babies can. How do you even understand him?” She didn’t get an answer as Minseok rolled his eyes and looked at the road again, cutting the next curve wide just to see his sister jump in shock from the back seat. “Yah! Don’t do that or I’ll tell Mom and have her take your license away!” _

_ “And I’ll tell her how you gave up on learning Korean besides the words ‘yah’ and ‘oppa~’. Which one is she going to be madder about?” _

_ Luhan hid his smile behind his palm, enjoying the siblings’ bickering without even understanding it. But when he glanced back at the road—finally straighter than he and Minseok were—he was jumping in shock, eyes going wide as he didn’t even think of trying to speak English. “Min! Person!” _

_ Minseok swung his head back to the road faster than seemed possible, swerving left to avoid hitting the scrawny boy just standing in the middle of the road. But before he could look back to make sure the stranger was okay, the car was hitting ice and sliding, further and further left, the edge of the road coming closer no matter what Minseok did to try and make the car go the other way. The second they hit the guardrail and continued through, there was screaming, but not what either of the two in the front expected. “I’m so so sorry for being mean to Luhan! Please please please God let me live!” Minseok turned to his sister right as the car started to slide down, just in time for it to start to roll and see her unbelted body flip with the car, still screaming her prayers. “I didn’t mean anything I said and he isn’t stupid for not speaking English and he’s actually really cool being able to speak two languages! And I love picking on oppa with him because Luhan makes it fun when he gets really confused! And I’m really really sorry for being mean to both of them when they told me they were dating! But please God, let me live!” _

_ And in an ironic twist of fate, that was then she hit the roof once more, a crack coming and then silence. Minseok struggled against his belt to get to her, dizzy from the spinning but still able to see his sister flopping around lifelessly. Luhan, however, whimpered then, and Minseok turned to him, almost wishing he hadn’t went the sight of a shard of glass in the boy’s neck made him feel even sicker to his stomach. “It’s okay, Luhan, help’s going to come. You and Minseon are going to be okay. Help is going to come, I promise.” _

_ “Mandarin… ge… I don’t… understand.” _

_ Tears were pricking in his eyes as Minseok felt a pained smile creep onto his face. “Idiot.” Luhan’s eyes only grew more confused at the Korean word that came out, only to relax and close when Minseok continued in a language he knew. “It’s going to be okay, Luhan. I promise. We’ll be helped and you and Minseon will be okay.” _

_ But Luhan only gave a sad smile, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead and from the hole in his neck. He shook his head, wincing in pain but not stopping. “No… I won’t be. But you will be, and that’s all I want.” _

_ “Luhan—” _

_ “Listen, ge.” Minseok fell silent, eyes clouded with pain and tears as he looked at Luhan’s still form. “Do you hear that? It’s singing.” _

_ “What are you talking about?” _

_ “The world… it’s singing.” Luhan smiled, as beautiful as his others even in the situation they were in. “It’s saying what I’ve wanted to tell you for a while.” _

_ “You probably shouldn’t keep talking, Lu.” _

_ “No, I have to say this. I might not get to.” He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and opened his mouth before Minseok could protest. “I…” the foreign language was strange on his tongue, coating it as if it were vinegar, leaving an unusual taste even after the substance was gone. “I love you, Minseok. Forever. Always.” _

_ Minseok felt tears running, and just started to open his mouth and respond when the car shifted again, Minseon sliding in the back as a dead weight and sending the whole car dropping off of the little bed of tree branches it had landed on before. _

_ When it reached solid ground again, Luhan’s chest was moving no more. Only Minseok was left breathing, slumped over the airbag and sinking closer to the wheel as it slowly deflated beneath him, not moving on his own conscious will. _

...

The break was 3 days away from being over when Xiumin got his credit card in the mail. Nobody in the postal office bothered to question the college junior as he danced with the small package, practically skipping out the door and making the walk to Tao’s apartment in what seemed like half the time.

And once there, he didn’t care that the other boy was probably still sleeping—he skipped in, his joy practically seeping into the air, and threw the door to Tao’s room wide open.

What he didn’t expect to find was the boy, wide awake, just lying in bed in the darkness, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. “Tao…? Are you okay?” Xiumin crept in even though the other knew he was there, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed gently and a lot more subdued than he was just moments before. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I got a call from my birth mother… I haven’t talked to her in years, and she called me this morning…” Tears prickled in the boy’s eyes and just seeing that made them come to Xiumin’s. “It would have been my brother’s birthday today… But she called and was sobbing about how glad she was to finally find me after all this time because she regretted giving me up but what happened has happened and then… she said…” Tao swallowed hard, but it did nothing to stop the sobs that came ripping from his chest seconds later. “My brother is dead. He’s dead ge. Gone. Has been for 4 years.”

Xiumin froze in his patting of Tao’s back, his own mind whirling as the date flashed before his eyes and then the year and then—“Oh god, I completely forgot today’s date.”

Tao sniffled, looking up with curious teary eyes, but Xiumin didn’t look at him. “You knew? You knew Lulu-ge died today?”

Slowly, Xiumin’s head turned down to look in Tao’s eyes, practically piercing the younger boy’s soul with his stare. “‘Lulu’?”

“Luhan-ge… We haven’t been together since we were little but still… he… he’s gone…”

Xiumin swallowed hard, closing his eyes as his thoughts tried to organize themselves. “It can’t be the same person…”

“What are you saying, ge?”

“Did she say how your brother died, Tao?

“He got in a car accident… near here, actually.” And Xiumin didn’t give a response as he stood and ran, leaving Tao alone, confused, and hurt.

...

_ Tao couldn’t figure out where he was. For months, the inside of the foster house had been all he had seen, the basement the home he had been locked in since the day he’d been placed there. And now that he was out, alone, having run for hours already through woods and fields, he had no idea what the road he had stumbled out on really was. _

_ The car was barreling towards him full-speed and without stopping before he even realized what was happening. But his brain was working too slow, mind too muddled from everything to think of what to do. And when it swerved, going off the edge and down, Tao had no idea what to do. After the sound of it tumbling stopped, he scrambled to the edge of the road, looking down at it settled on the ground hundreds of feet before. Slowly, he slid himself down the side as well, clambering down until he was level with the car and able to look in. _

_ That was when he screamed. The girl in the back was obviously beyond help, body bent in a million directions that were never natural. And the boy sitting passenger seat in the front was no better, shard of glass sticking straight out from his neck, blood everywhere. Tao felt his stomach tightening at that, nonexistent meals trying to come back up. _

_ But the third person—the driver—Tao could see he was breathing. And slowly, he skirted around the car, reached through the broken window to push his body back against the seat. A cut from the driver’s head was slowly dripping blood down his face, but Tao didn’t care as he slowly brushed the boy’s hair back and smiled when he could see the full face. Without even knowing what he was doing, he mimicked what the one girl in the foster house had once done to him—leaned forward and plastered his lips to the other’s, pulling back with an emotionless face. “All better.” _

_ The next morning, he found himself curled up on a bench in the police department, a social worker sitting with his head on her lap, and no idea what happened to the boy in the car. _

_... _

Tao gave a small wave to the boy across the lecture room, but Xiumin didn’t even blink, just stared past him. Dejected, he took the seat closest to the door that was still open, supplies thrown down hard enough to make a few of the people around him jump.

Every week during the Sociology lecture, Tao’s only focus was on the back of Xiumin’s head, watching as it bopped with his movement of note-taking. His notebook was filled with more doodles and random thoughts written in Chinese than anything else. And he didn’t speak to the elder again.

Not until a night in late spring when he, once again, came home late from the orphanage and just barely caught the PRT before it left for the dorms. With his panda head under his arm, he flopped into a seat, not realizing at first that there was a person passed out on the other side of the car. “Xiumin-ge?”

There was no response and slowly, Tao crept closer to the boy, ending crouched right in front of him. Careful fingers lifted a cellphone from elder’s lap and the phone came to life in his hands. Once he caught sight of the picture, Tao froze, not believing his own eyes.

Because the background was a picture of Xiumin and Luhan, their lips pressed together into a gentle kiss and pure bliss on their faces.

Tao had never made his brother that happy. But Xiumin had.

And suddenly, Tao remembered that night years ago, when he’d first run away from a life that gave him no freedom, no potential. He remembered the accident he caused, the car that had rolled, the three inside.

Xiumin was the one he kissed. Luhan was the one beside him.

And in the back, the little girl— _ “All my sister had wanted was a picture of the chapel, but I never got to give her one”— _ he had been the reason why she never got it.

Tao felt the panda head fall, but he didn’t care to pick it up from the grimy floor. What was the point anyway, when he wore it to cheer up kids that he had no tie to, when he had taken the life of a little girl so close to his brother? When he had taken the life of his brother himself?

Tao used to think life was a monster, giving some people horrible lives when others had amazing lives they didn’t deserve.

Now, he could only think that  _ he _ was the monster.

And he deserved the life he got.


End file.
